


Death Scare

by Burgie



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F, Miqo'te WoL, female WoL, sch WoL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25957099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burgie/pseuds/Burgie
Summary: Feelings come out after a death scare.
Relationships: Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn/Warrior of Light
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	Death Scare

One would think that Limsa would be… a little more chaotic, at least, after the near-disaster that had so narrowly been avoided. Large thanks to the rogue’s guild, of course, though they could not officially be thanked. Or even be involved, really. So far as the citizens were are, the attack had been stopped by the Yellowjackets, with very little help by the rogues. Louisa and Merlwyb, of course, knew better, as did those close to the Admiral, those who she could tell her secrets to. And, of course, those who had been directly involved, including the rogues themselves.

Now, sitting in the private sitting room just off of the Admiral’s office (there was a door leading there, through which conversation sometimes filtered if one only had the ability to hear it), Louisa’s ears twitched at the sound of voices as she uncorked the bottle of wine (imported from Wineport) and set it on the small round table by the crackling fireplace, allowing the wine to breathe. Her sister may be the main drinker of wine, but Louisa considered herself quite the connoisseur as well. She at least knew how to treat and enjoy it.

Under the table, Louisa’s carbuncle (now retired thanks to the soul of the scholar that Louisa had received from the newly-discovered guild) snuffled in her sleep, raising her head at the sound of the cork popping out before burying her head once more beneath her paws. Louisa smiled fondly at the creature, the magical aura around it now rather more of a white colour despite the carbuncle’s emerald hue. She was an old girl, now. They both were. Though, Louisa had to admit that she had aged a few years watching her sister fight off those pirates tonight. Watching her rush to disarm the bomb in time, hoping that she’d be fast enough, that nothing would happen. For, of course, Merlwyb had been too stubborn to move, too stubborn to show weakness or fear or even leave her quarters. Stubborn and proud to a fault, that one.

As ever, Louisa made her way over to the door, lingering by it, should Merlwyb require a scholarly sort to sort out any issues. She listened intently, hearing Merlwyb conversing with the proud lalafell who had very nearly lost her life tonight. Were it not for Jacke, she may well be dead. They may all be dead, were it not for that guild that the Yellowjackets so loathed. Or, at least, the leader loathed them. Louisa was learned enough to know that one could not judge an entire group based on the leader. Could not judge a group based on some members. It was her sister who had taught her that, though Louisa still could not manage to change Merlwyb’s mind on the matter of beastmen.

Louisa was brought back to the present by the sound of footsteps crossing the wooden floor, combined with farewells and well wishes and hopes that the injured would heal quickly and without issue. Hearing this, Louisa headed back over to the table, ears lowered in embarrassment, hoping that she had not been caught out.

The door opened as Louisa was pouring wine into the two glasses that she’d set out, the carbuncle beneath the table lifting her head and swivelling her ears.

“How was the meeting, my lady?” Louisa asked, turning to face her grey-skinned Admiral. Merlwyb gave her a fond smile, gratefulness tingeing the edges as she spied the wine on the table.

“As well a meeting can be when it is suddenly called in the middle of the night,” said Merlwyb, walking further into the room. “Still, all is well that ends well, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” said Louisa, giving a nod. “That you yet live and the city has not been reduced to rubble is a cause for celebration.”

“I will drink to that, as the young folk say,” said Merlwyb, at last reaching the table and taking the wineglass into her hand. She walked over to the window, gazing out over the glittering lights of her proud city. There was a reason, after all, that she had decided to place her office and private sitting room on this level, and not simply because it gave her a good view of the city for surveillance purposes.

Taking her own glass, Louisa joined her, admiring the way that the lights reflected on the water with the stars, the white stone of the city glowing in the moonlight. It was rather beautiful here. Beautiful everywhere in La Noscea. Others would try to fill this silence with chatter, but Louisa never minded the quiet. Even if the silence of the farmhouse in Summerford in the wake of Nyka’s departure had given her cause to spend more time in the city with her Admiral. Or, at least, that had been her initial reasoning.

Spending so much more time with the Admiral, though, had… changed things. Not only between them, as they had grown closer with physical proximity, but in Louisa. Thanks to more time spent in the city, she had been able to learn of ways in which she might put her magic to better use. Though she understood that battle was a necessary part of life for some (and inevitable in Eorzea, with not just the beast tribes but the Garleans as well as some groups of Eorzeans intent on making life difficult or downright miserable), Louisa didn’t enjoy that part of life. If she had a choice, she would sooner not have to cast a spell to down a foe. She would sooner not have to face a foe at all. Some would call her a coward, and many had. But Louisa ignored them. It had been a relief, however, to learn from one Alka Zolka of the marauder’s guild, about the secrets of the scholar school of magic. At last, she could be useful, even if that usefulness came in the form of healing wounds. She would sooner heal wounds than deal them, though.

And yet… it was not only her magic that had changed in Louisa. No, it was also her feelings towards the Admiral. She had long nursed a crush on the woman, and really, who could blame her? Merlwyb was… well, she had heard many of the rowdier patrons of the Drowning Wench all but fawning over her. And saying some things that, had the Admiral heard, would have seen them sentenced to deal with the wavekin. Louisa’s feelings towards the Admiral, however, had ever been kept a secret. Her sister knew, easily able to spot romantic feelings (unless they were directed towards herself), but nobody else knew of Louisa’s feelings. She had kept it hidden, trying hard not to blush whenever the Admiral entered a room and hoping that her smile read simple happiness and not outright adoration. Given that nobody but her sister had ever teased her about her feelings, she figured that her attempts must have been successful.

At last, Merlwyb turned from the window, giving a fond smile to Louisa, and headed back over to the small round table, taking a seat and another sip from her wine. The carbuncle moved so that she would be out of the way of any feet, before curling up again with a little yawn.

“Some people often wonder why I allow the rogue’s guild to still operate,” said Merlwyb, swirling her wine in her glass. Louisa watched the motion, even as she took a seat herself. “Tonight proves precisely why they are needed.”

“I agree,” said Louisa. “Though I may be biased, given that my sister dabbles in being a rogue, herself.”

“I thought that she left Limsa to take up thaumaturgy?” Merlwyb asked, looking at her. Louisa felt pinned by that silver gaze, but she nodded, taking another sip of her wine to steel her nerve.

“She did,” said Louisa. “But she’s always been friends with V’kebbe and the other rogues.”

“Just friends?” Merlwyb asked. Louisa laughed.

“Unfortunately for Veronyka, yes,” said Louisa. Although, she wasn’t entirely certain that Veronyka’s feelings still ran that way towards the other miqo’te.

“How fares your sister?” Merlwyb asked. “She seems well, whenever I chance to see her at the Maelstrom headquarters.”

“She’s having a great time,” said Louisa, beaming. “Getting into all sorts of trouble, no doubt, but she still calls me on the linkpearl every evening.”

“It is good to keep family close,” said Merlwyb. “And how have you been faring?”

“Me? Oh, I…” Louisa blushed, her hand going to her hair, always worn loose down her back. “I have been well, my lady.”

“Please,” said Merlwyb, giving her a fond smile that melted Louisa’s heart. The hand that Merlwyb placed atop Louisa’s own on the table, however, had her heart beating double-time. “We have worked together long enough now to skip the pleasantries, I believe. You may address me simply by my name. You have earned that honour.”

“Are you sure, my- Merlwyb?” Louisa asked, her cheeks beginning to resemble the wavekin that sometimes climbed ashore. Merlwyb nodded.

“In fact, it is very late, why not stay in my quarters?” Merlwyb suggested. “My bed is more than big enough for two, especially if one is a much smaller miqo’te.” Louisa flushed pink, ears folding back as she swore she heard a squeak come from somewhere in her throat. At last, though, she found the courage to speak.

“I would like that very much, Merlwyb,” said Louisa. “Thank you for the offer.”

“And thank you for the wine, and for remaining by my side over these past moons,” said Merlwyb, leaning back in her seat. Her hand slid from Louisa’s, though their fingertips still touched. “It may simply be my near-death experience, or the wine, or a combination of both, but… I am in rather a strange mood this evening, my dear Louisa.”

My dear…

Louisa took an overly-large gulp of her wine, her face so hot that even her ears were burning.

“Oh?” Louisa managed to ask. “In what way?”

“Come closer,” said Merlwyb, leaning over the table. Louisa leaned in closer to her, wondering if the Admiral was about to whisper something into her ear. Yet, it was not her ear that Merlwyb leaned towards, breath sweet with wine ghosting across her face.

She was not expecting the Admiral to kiss her. And Merlwyb felt this, pulling away as Louisa remained still, as if carved from the white cliffs that decorated much of La Noscea.

“My apologies, I have acted out of turn,” said Merlwyb, looking strangely shy as she looked away from Louisa. Blinking, Louisa managed to shake off the shock, her brain finally managing to chug past the part where Merlwyb, the woman she had been crushing on for the Twelve knew how long, had kissed her. Kissed her, and not on some drunken impulse, for she knew that the Roegadyn woman did not succumb to intoxication so quickly, but simply because she’d wanted to. As if she’d been meaning to for a long time, but the fear of tonight had at last pushed her over the edge and given her the courage to do so.

“Oh, no need to apologise,” said Louisa. “I-I simply- wasn’t expecting that, you know, it’s not every day that your crush kisses you.” She’d said that out loud, oh- Titan crush her beneath his foot. But Merlwyb was smiling, silver eyes aglow not with mirth but with warmth.

“So my feelings are returned, then?” Merlwyb asked. Louisa nodded, not trusting herself to speak. “Would you object to another kiss?”

“Of course not,” Louisa breathed, and just like that, Merlwyb was kissing her again, this time cupping Louisa’s face in her hands. And Louisa was kissing her back, her hands gently lacing behind Merlwyb’s neck, their kisses gentle pecks at first before evolving into something more, something greater, a tongue parting lips as a soft noise came from Louisa’s throat. Merlwyb moved her elbow, hand grazing down Louisa’s neck, and the wineglass toppled over. The spillage, however, was not what interrupted them- rather, it was the carbuncle who gave an annoyed screech and darted out from beneath the table, going to the door to clean itself.

“Ah, it appears that I have interrupted your carbuncle and given her a wine bath,” said Merlwyb, pulling her lips away from Louisa but only drawing her body away a little. “My apologies, little one.” The carbuncle gave a huff before resuming its cleaning regimen.

“I’m sure that she’ll forgive you,” said Louisa. “Just give her some table scraps.” Her heart still thudded, her lips fairly burning from the kisses. She could still barely believe that had happened, that Merlwyb’s hands were still on her body, that the Admiral was so close to her. But there were still more kisses in store, Merlwyb’s lips so soft, her hands tough but gentle as they slid over Louisa’s skin.

And Louisa began to wonder, as that hand on her shoulder pushed the fabric of her robe down, if Merlwyb’s invitation to sleep with her had been innocent or not.


End file.
